


Bond –an interlude–

by vampirekiki



Series: Shadows [2]
Category: Angelo (Band), Jrock, LM.C, Pierrot (Band)
Genre: Cults, Kidnapping, M/M, Suspense, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 07:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6415075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirekiki/pseuds/vampirekiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's just that I always have the bad habit of writing longish back-story for the characters in my fanfics, so this interlude serves...well, tell us a little of the background information of the two main characters in the main story of the Shadows series, I hope you get what I'm talking about here. And please stay tune for the next chapter!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bond I

**Author's Note:**

> It is a prequel/interlude of the Shadows series, originally penned by spider_tears and continued by me.
> 
> PS: the chapters are mostly not beta-ed!

Bond -an interlude-

_  
**Flashback** _

_The door made of iron bars was opened from outside. He heard the noise first ever before he managed to open his eyes. The young prisoner in the tiny cell, barely pass the age of 14, was lying at the corner of the bare ground, sat himself up and blinked for a few time before his eyes came focusing on the figure which appeared before the opened door._

_A masked figure was towering over him, it was a man whose face had never been seen to his victims without the terrible white mask over his feature, the man was heavily robed in black; an arrogant, unforgiving attitude could be sensed without him ever needing to utter a words. None of children were allowed to see their captors' faces for they were always masked whenever they came to select their victims._

_"Get up, you worthless junk!"_

_The man rushed in and kicked the boy right at his side. The youth groaned, his body arched in pain but he forced himself to stand up as quickly as he could despite his muscles were protesting against the action._

_Without looking back the masked man walked out of the cell, the boy had to drag himself out to the corridor outside and follow his captor. The masked man knew he did not need to tell the boy to obey; he would doubtlessly follow his every order for they had long taught their prisoners the hard lesson of obedience..._

_With his hand still pressed against his injured side as though it could ease the pain, the raven haired youth dragged himself up the stairs, following his masked captor up to the horrible ritual site where all macabre was unleashed. The door, with a pentagram painted upon its frame, was opened and the masked man and the boy stepped in. Sucking in a deep breath to steady himself, the raven head tried his best to steel himself for the inferno he knew awaiting him within this forbidden room..._

_He knew crystal clear that what he was being summoned for, the members of the Cult had just finished their nightly ritual and they wanted a boy captive to do the clean up afterward._

_To be honest, the raven head never knew what the Cult really was about. From what little information he had managed to gather through the time he spent in this hellhole with those cult members, he guessed that those psychopaths were some sort of Devil Worshipers, hiding themselves in abandoned house around the outskirt of the city, performing Satanic ceremonies to please their Dark Lord._

_Like all Devil Worshipers you saw on TV, those cult members kidnapped children and abused them during their satanic rituals as well..._

_He was picked up and kidnapped by those mad people while he was walking back home and had been held prisoner even since. At first, he was frustrated and angry with the situation that forced upon him. He also tried to fight back and escape but the merciless torture he was subjected whenever he rebelled against them, had eventually taught him that he had no other choice but to stop his foolish attempt. There were still many half-healed scars and burn marks serving as an evidence of his rebellion_  
So he had to lay low and learned to show obedience to the Cult whenever it was requested, but it did not mean he had given up hope. Deep down he knew that he was just waiting for Them to let their guard down, then his chance would arrive, allowing him to escape from this living nightmare.  
Yes, he was trapped in a living nightmare, forced to serve his captors like a slave. Those hateful crazy Satan worshippers who would have him murdered in the name of their Lord; or killed him over the slightest failure they might find on his service. Days and nights went by within this house filling with children's scream of pain, haunting him even in his sleep... 

_Once stepped in, he found himself looking at the candles lit room with dark curtains hanging down from the ceiling, an altar filled with black candles was placed in the middle of the room, right at the center of another huge pentagram. But these weren't the worstwhat was truly frightening was what laid on the floor, a mass of blood tainted slit flesh, broken limbs and inner organs, broken body parts of the tortured victim, all cut opened and tossed across the floor, plus there was dark-red stains seeping all over the bare floor and upon the black curtains._

_All of this was from human, human blood everywhere; the room was filled with a sickening smell mixed with the heavy stink of dried blood and candles._

_Under the watchful gaze of the masked man by the door, the raven head moved impassively across the room and where the victim of the ritual killing was lying and began to clean the guts and cut-up flesh off the floor with his own bare hands, before he could throw them all inside a large plastic bag and carry them away from this hideous place. The raven haired made his way down the backyard of the house in order to hide the body there in the prepared shallow grave awaiting him, under the Cult's order._

_He paused for a second to study the bloody messed up ruin of what used to be the victim's face, noticing that this latest victim was nothing but a mere boy about 3 or 4 years his junior. He could barely suppress a sigh as he found how young and helpless the boy was, knowing only too well that he himself could easily go down the same way of this dead boy, or so many other unlucky young boys and girls who went before him. There was no way a lone child can fight against a group of adults, especially when he was facing a group of adults who did not even consider and treat their victims as human being, but merely disposable sacrificial lambs. Like predators did not mind killing the weaker small animals for spot._

_He was older than the rest of the cult's victims, and as a result was deeded a little more useful than the rest. So he was kept alive for the time being, but there was still no guarantee that he would make it out of here unharmed. In fact, he had seen how it went for the other kidnapped children for too many times to know better than to keep any false hope alive._

_The Cult assigned some tasks to him and due to hisduties, he enjoyed slightly more freedom than the other prisoners. He was allowed to walk out of the basement and went upstairs to the kitchen on the ground floor in order to help fixing whatever junk they would throw at their prisoners once within every single day. But it didn't change the fact that he was still being watched closely whenever he was upstairs, his captors still knew there was chance that their little helper would escape, just like the other victims they held._

_When he finished his duty in the upstairs room, done cleaning the blood off the floor and dumped what remains of the dead body down in the backyard, he was well beyond exhaustion. With his dairy routine done, his masked captor had guided him back to the basement, where captives were held. Once there, the masked man shoved a large bottle of water and a few pieces of bread into his hands before he closed the heavy door right before the raven haired youth's face._

_With the sole known rote of escape locked from him, the raven head sighed in annoyance. With no other choice he turned back and started walking further back into the basement, went back to where he knew his own cell was. At least before nightfall he still had a few hours of being outside, able to walk around in the basement before they came down to lock him right back into his small dirty cell---_

_His train of thoughts broke off when he suddenly heard suspicious noise of movement, and a clear sob echoing off in silence._

_The youth tensed immediately, he was caught off guard by the sudden sound. He had thought he was alone. With the last victim gone, there should be no one else but himself being held prisoner, or so he thought. But the sound of another human existed in that darkened cellar._

_He quickly scanned around his surrounding, eyes anxiously wandered from one small empty cell to another, before he managed to find a small trembling figure cringed into a small ball at the corner of a cell. Under the poor lighting of the cellar it was difficult to see the outline of this new prisoner but judging from the constant noise of sobbing, it was another boy. And the best he could make out was a shot of deep brown hair, the face was hidden, pressing to the nest of his drew-up kneels._

_A new victim had been brought here while he was out of it. The youth thought to himself impassively. He did not know whether to feel relieve or to feel sorry for a fellow prisoner. Maybe he should lead more on the feeling relieve side since the arrival of a new victim meant the increasing chance of his own survival_

_With feeble movement the youth bent down to place a piece of dry bread to the ground and gently pushed it pass the small door into the cell._

_Somehow during his imprisonment it became his duty to help keeping the other victims alive before their captors saw fit to end those fragile lives. He hated this kind of duty with a passion as much as he distasted the task he had to perform after the ritual killing. Those tasks made him feel almost like a subordinate to those sick bastards who kidnapped and tortured them; making him feel unclean and spiritually tainted with every passing day, as if it weren't only his clothes that had been dirtied up by the blood and gore, but also his own soul and morality._

_With nothing else to do, he stood before the cell and waited. It took a long while before the new kid finally made a response. The younger boy looked at the food which was offered to him, then his gaze fixed upon the older boy who stood outside of his cell with desperation clear on his tear-stained face. This time the boy's feature came into the older one's view. Despite the trace of dried tear, a few bruises and the vivid fearful expression on that small pale face, the raven head still found his fellow captive adorable in a sense, as though there was something extremely fragile, precious and strangely arresting about that child._

_For a long moment of silence neither of them moved, the smaller boy merely had his eyes fixed upon the dirty, thin form of a strange older boy before him, trying to decide whether the latter was a threat to his own safety. He judged and decided not by logic like a grown up might, but solely by instinct of children._

_Eventually something seemed to flash across those innocent, dread-filled eyes, and a decision was made. Then before the older boy could react, the caged child had moved forward, not clawing toward the food on the floor even though the raven head knew the small boy must be starving. Instead, the boy struggled to his feet and walked unsteadily toward_ him, _who now stood dumbfounded outside of the cell. For a moment he was rooted to the spot he stood, did not know what to do as the boy crossed the short distance until his path was mercilessly blocked by the iron bars of the cell. The brown hair child stood there, each hand clinging to one bar, his face pressing to the bars, peering out at him with tear-filled eyes, confusion and fear written all over those expressive orbs._

_With whatever strength his small body was still possessing, the child tried to shake the bars loose with his bare hands, but the iron bars would not give in despite the boy's effort. The youth watched as the younger one struggled on, feeling a tiny spark of pity flashing in his dark hardened heart._

_"Pleasehelp me!" Realizing his effort to loose the bars was in vain, the child looked back up at the other boy and pleaded with a quivering, heartbreakingly desperate voice, fresh tear seeping down those redden cheeks. The boy obviously and understandably did not know why he was captured and he definitely did not have the slightest idea of what was in stored for him in this hellhole._

_At this point the raven haired youth had to look away, unable to meet the younger one's gaze. He did not want to take pity on the boy because he knew only too well that the kid was going to die anyway. By tomorrow night, or a few more days later, one of the cult members would come down to the basement, opening the door to the tiny cell and dragged the boy outside and all the way up the stairs, to the ritual square where the unspeakable horror broke loose._

_But why would it bother him to see that boy crying like this? Why he could not just walk away to leave the miserable child to his own fate? It wasn't like he had not seen how the kidnapped children met their sorry end before._

_"Please help meI want to go home..."The kid's voice broke off with a heavy sob, then nothing coherent could be heard from him again. The best he could make out from the helpless whimper was a plea, asking for mercy and for the boy's own mother._

_The pitying voice of the smaller boy touched upon something deep in his heart. It had been a long time since he last thought of his family members, his own parents and his little brother. The hope of returning back to them had long faded away before he noticed._

_Even though he knew that he was not in the position to help anyone else; he did not even know how to save himself from those bastards for crying out loud! Still it was difficult not to take pity of the sobbing child locked in the cell, even though he knew there was no point in pitying him! He would die sooner or latter._

_He cannot help that boy. He kept reasoning with himself. But at leastmaybe there was something he could do---  
As the last thought took shape in his mind, the raven head found his hand reaching out as if on its own to the narrow space between iron bars, and rested itself softly on the boy's small head, stroking his short brown hair in what he wished was a comforting manner._

_"Don't cry anymore..." He murmured with a mixture of pity and half-hearted annoyance in his tone, as he kept caressing the smaller boy's head in an unconscious, yet rather tender way._

_The child only sobbed harder, but he learnt into the gentle touch almost instantly anyway. The next thing he did was entirely out of the raven head's expectancy though, the boy had reached his thin arms out between the bars and wrapped it around the older boy's torso as best he could, in an attempt of an embrace, seeking whatever comfort human contact could bring._

_Before the youth knew what was going on, he found himself hugging the child back, soon both himself and the smaller boy ended up sitting on the bare floor, the two of them were still contacted despite being separated by the cold iron bars. The closeness of another living, breathing person so fragile and tender to his touch, drew up long forgotten emotions from the depth of his being, a strange sensation had shook through him. It felt as though a layer of thick ice which froze over the core of his being was starting to melt very slowly, little by little almost unnoticeable..._

_Acting out of impulse, he then asked something he had never asked from the other victims, before he knew what he was doing his mouth had openedseemingly on its own, to form a question and uttered it._

_"What's your name anyway?"_

_Slowly the younger boy looked up uncertainly at him, this time the tear had almost dried, then with hesitation he told him his name, his voice barely above a whisper._

_But he heard it and memorized it anyway. In return he murmured his own name to the boy's ear._

  
To be continued.


	2. bond II

Shadows Interlude: Bond part II  
 _  
For a while, things had gone quiet for the captives of the strange, secretive Cult; for the last few days they were more or less left alone. No other victim was sent down to the cellar and locked into tiny cell; nor did the two reminding captives being summoned upstairs for sacrificial propose, which alone was a thankful relief for them, a stolen moment of safety even though the older of the two, the raven haired boy knew the Cult members would sooner or latter returned from their rare break of murderous deeds; and started the circle of kidnapping and killing once they saw fit._

_All he had ever been wondering for the whole time was when their old habits would kick in again; though it was one of the thoughts he hid from his younger, more fragile company, who he thought would be best being kept from the truth of their situation for the time being._

_It wasn't long before he managed to loose the lock so now the younger captive could sneak out of the tiny cell which imprisoned him, when the guards weren't around. During their waking hours, the raven haired one taught his younger company what he needed to know in order to survive in their terrible state of imprisonment: not to cause trouble by screaming or escape attempt which would only alarm their kidnapped, stay as quiet and unnoticeable as possible in any of the Cult members' presence so they would be less likely to come up with excuse to harm them. Be alert and be absolutely keen, careful till the time came, chance presented itself and they could find a way to escape._

_Yes, it was what he had been thinking of over and over and over through all this time. He hadn't been keeping himself alive for nothing after all, he had been observant, holding his breath and waited patiently, desperately for the guards to slip low and window of opportunity appeared, then there might be chance, however slim and unlikely it might be, for him to escape. And he was determined to get himself, and now his new little inmate ready for the chance of escape that might, or might not present itself in the nearly future._

_His teeth clenched together at the thought; knowing that time was against them; it was clear to him that it would not be long before the Cult demanding another sacrifice, their remaining chance of surviving another upcoming bloody ritual was nearly nonexistent..._

_That was actually the part that kept him waking at nights, troubled and defeated. For as time passed it seemed to become clear to him that there was no way both him and his fellow captive could escape together and both be free. He had already promised that once there was chance for escape, they would escape together for good._

_Day after day he spent as much time as he could to do 'practices' with his younger company within the cellar. They practiced simply movements and tricks repeatedly, till the said movements became instinctual, a reaction without thought. They kept their bodies moving despite the hunger and lack of strength cased by the shortage of food, and the limit of space, learning to move about within the limited space within the cellar as quickly and silently as possible, to find shelters and hiding spot in the moment of need. Be prepared, be alert, and be ready to fight or flee for whatever terrible blow was to come their way._

_His main purpose was to keep both their hope up through the simple practices and kept themselves moving, doing something, anything to keep themselves from falling into complete misery. Hopelessness and despair had already destroyed most of the other victims, for they lost the hope and ended up not having enough strength left to fight back, and they ended up losing to Death and the madness of the Cult._

_But it seemed their luck had searched its end today, for during middle of their 'practice'; they heard the noise of the heavy door being pushed open from the outside. All of their movement stopped at the sound, instantly he gripped the bewildered boy's arm and push him back into his cell before closing the door, hoping to trick their captors into believing that things were just as they used to be, with the captives frightened and helpless, not able to fight back._

_The younger one of the two was stunned at first, but soon taking the hint when footsteps could be heard approaching from where the staircases stood. So the smaller boy quickly clawed back to the corner of the cell in an attempt to hide just as he was taught to behave when one of their captors appeared._

_Tearing his eyes away from the tiny cell, the raven haired one turned to look at the direction of the short staircases leading toward the only exit of their prison, and began slowly walked toward it._

_When he reached there he was not surprised to find a darkly robed figure standing before the half opened prison door. What surprised him was that he realized this time it was not the same man who used to come down to drag him up the stairs. Even though all the members of the Cult shrouded themselves with the identical black heavy robe, but he still noticed the difference: the figure before him was shorter at height, the body was of slighter build, his faced hid by the shade beneath the hood and more importantly, the unnamed person stood before him was surrounded by a sickening aura of power and authority, an aura even more dangerous, ominous than the ruthless guard whom he was used to see and took orders from previously._

_Suppressing the urge to run away and hide, he schooled his trembling limbs to stay still as he stood there looking up to this stranger, knowing too well that if he made a wrong move, the person before him wouldn't hesitate to dispose him immediately, probably in a manner that was even more careless and cruel than the other guard could ever be. During this brief encounter, the robed person had already given him such impression: the creature before him was devoid of emotions such as pity, guilt, shameall of these humanly weakness was not known to him, The only things a creature like this would acknowledge was power, superiority, greed, the thirst for blood, and the pleasure to inspire suffering and death._

_This man, he must be of higher rate than the other cult members. The boy quickly realized._

_The raven haired boy could not see the taller man's face, but he knew that the other was staring down at him like one would study an interesting animal, in a way that was emotionless yet scientific. He also knew that it might be the end of him, right here in this cellar where he seemingly could not escape, by the hands of this fearsome stranger._

_However, much to his shock, the robed person spoke to him, lips moving to form a firm command._

_"Come with me."_

_His eyes widened in bewilderment, for he recognized the voice as somewhat feminine, realizing his previous mistake of judging the person as a he. But the fact that a woman could be participating in such hideous activity, and possessed such disturbingly fearsome aura of authority, frightened him even more._

_Without other choice, he walked out of the cellar, following the unnamed female Cult member, keeping a careful distance between them. She did not bother to turn back to make sure he was following, but any hope for escape was crashed once the raven head caught sight of another Cult member, standing beside the prison door, closing it as both captor and prisoner had passed through before this other guard catching up with them , walking right behind the boy._

_This time when he was leaded upstairs, he was surprised to find himself being guided to a part of the house which he was never allowed to see before. The rest of the house was plain, half abandoned with broken pieces of furniture lying around on the bare floor but not here, the spacey room he had stepped in was finely lit, with furniture arranged, volume of antique-looking books among he bookshelves near the wall. Under the dim candlelight the room almost looked...tasteful with a dark tone. The raven head shivered at the thought, it seemed like they were not going to sacrifice him in this room for there was no tell-tale trace of blood and gross, but why would they bring him here?_

_Without any acknowledgement sent his way, the boy was left dumbfounded at the entrance until he was roughly pushed inside by the guard behind him, he stumbled forward into the center of the room, shocked as he heard the door being shut and locked from outside of the room, leaving him trapped with his unpredictable female captor, who now sat herself on the couch opposite him._

_Once she sat herself comfortable among the cushions on top of the couch, the woman threw her head backward in a causal manner, her hands reached up to remove the mask upon her face in one smooth movement, at the same time the black hood fell down along her shoulders, revealing a mass of dark colored hair, long and smooth as a waterfall of ink, black as the mid-night._

_Much to his astonishment, the face that revealed beneath the mask was an unsettlingly beautiful one. Her skin pale as the color of a cold winter moon, her finely shaped lips thin with a shade of unnatural deep crimson, and her seemingly bottomless dark eyes flashed with the icy, slow-burned flame of madness._

_He took a sharp breath as her face was revealed fully to him, and much against his will he felt his body went stiffed, half with alarm and half with...pure fear. The woman before him was gorgeous, unlike any other women he had ever seen before. He had heard about the breathtaking beauty of innocence and purity before but what she possessed was a chilling kind of beauty, beauty that shone solely in evilness._

_Noticing the shock and dread he had displayed, the dark haired woman laughed, giving her captive a wide, cold smile; her teeth showing from beneath the painted crimson lips._

_"Come closer." She spoke to him lazily after her own laughter died down, her eyes still fixing upon the youth._

_When the raven head did not move an inch, instead of a display of anger and annoyance, the female leader's smile only seemed to grow._

_" **Come.** "She said once more, with an icy force right beneath her melodic tone. "You know, boy...I won't bite, **really**."  
_  
Tbc...


	3. Bond III

Interlude Bond III  
 _  
He could hear someone's laughter, echoing around him. Cruel, high-pitch laughter mocked him mercilessly, getting louder and louder. It was a woman's voice, mocking him with her savage, restraintless laughter, knowing fully well that he was helpless, unable to escape from her malice and mockery._

_Where's he now? The boy struggled in complete darkness, trying in desperation to grip, to hold onto something. But there was only cold air seeping through his fingers, and his feet touched upon nothing, there was nothing to ground himself_

_The wicked laughter came again, this time he could make out the same female voice, speaking to him in a strangely melodic manner.  
_  
 _She asked with the same mockery clear in her tone._ "Do you know why we have spared you for so long?"  
_  
What was she saying?_

_Need not to mention he was stunned to hear her statement. So far he'd considered his survival being the reward of his own strategies, not the result of the Cult deciding to spare him. He didn't want to hear such cruel words from his female captor, didn't want to accept the possibility that after struggling for survival for so long, he was still under their control._

_A small voice at the back of his head was trying to remind him that he shouldn't trust that woman's words, as far as he could understand, the Cult had no reason to spare him._

_It must be some sort of trap, he just knew it. The wheels inside his head were turning rapidly, trying to figure out an answer, a safe route of escape. But there is nothing he could do but to shook his head to no one in particular. It must be some sort of trap, he just knew it. The wheels inside his head were turning rapidly despite the great confusion, trying to figure out an answer, a safe route of escape. But there is nothing he could do but to shook his head. No, he did not know why The Cult had kept him alive for so long; it was true that he'd already outlived all of the other victims he had ever come to know about._

_He wanted so much to argue back to the female voice but nothing came up, he could only float in this unbreakable darkness, helplessly listening to whatever the woman wished to say._

_The teen heard a chuckle. He thought in his mind's eye he could also see the woman 's lips curled upward into a cold smile of dark amusement. Then much to his shock and terror the female's voice reply:_

"It's because we saw potential in you, Child. "  
 _  
Immediately he felt his whole being started to quiver out of disbelief. What she'd just said was beyond shocking. What was she talking about? Potential? What did it mean when she said such thing to him?  
_  
"What are you talking about?"  
 _  
He wasn't certain whether the question had been truly uttered or just simply been trapped in his own throat. But what came afterward as a reply was yet another playful chuckle._

 __  
"You're unlike those other sacrifices. You're strong, while they justbroken so easily."  
 _  
His eyes snapped shut at the mention of those murdered children, their cries still haunted him, he could still see their withering forms as they struggled, trying to save themselves; but none of them last long. Usually it never took long for them to break down under torture, losing their sanity to fear and madness even before The Cult finished them off.  
_

"But you aren't like them." _The same melodic female voice seemed to float in the darkness, with a twisted kind of sweetness in her tone._ "If I were correct, you're more likeus. That's what I find really interesting."

_He felt his own stomach tightening as disgust shocked through him. Whatever rationality still left in his mind screaming to reject what he'd just heard. What she had so calmly stated was not possible. He has nothing alike with those monsters!_   
_  
Another bead of cold laughter reached his ears._

"It isn't really so much of a surprise, boy." _The woman continued in an amazed tone._ "You know what you were really made of the best"  
 _  
Did he really know? The Cult's members tortured and killed defenseless children effortlessly. They were bad, evil beyond descriptionBut what had he done in all these horror? Nothing. He could do nothing but watching his doomed fellow little prisoners being tortured, and he even took part cleaning up their broken remains. He did all this just to ensure his own survival; it was part of the strategies to keep himself useful to those devil worshipers. He never dared to resist his own captors. In more than one ways he had made himself a slave to the people he loathed the most._

_Catching up in disbelief and self-denial, the teen failed to realize that the voices around him had quieted down long before he noticed. Thick silence filled him from without to within like suffocating dark water. Then much to his horror, the teen could sense icy fingers wrapping around his neck, squeezing slowly, tightening._

_He screamed but couldn't even hear his own voice, his head started to spin due to the lack of oxygen. Crimson, thick liquid with an overwhelming bitter taste was being forced-fed into his mouth. He choked; he wanted to spat the liquid out, afraid that he was being fed poison. But in his weakened state he could do little to resist the suspicious smelling drink rushing down his throat._

_The liquid burnt like acid all the way down his throat, making him feel like he was burning from within. He could feel his body withering in pain, his consciousness drifting like dying leave in gusts of violent whirlwind._

_Before he sank further into the endless abyss, he heard the woman speaking to him once more.  
_  
"You will take part in the next ritual, boy. And with your own hands you will bring us an innocent lambit's your testonly after that you might go free"

 

****

_  
He fell, free falling out of control. For a brief moment, fragments of chaotic, strangely vivid images of macabre flashed in front of him, overwhelming. The images was too much to handle, he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes. Instead of escaping from the terrifying sight before him or losing consciousness, the next thing he knew was his eyes snapping open, light poured mercilessly into his vision as he woke up screaming._

_The first thing he saw was a shadowy form hovering above him, and cold fingers griping his forearms tightly, the sensation brought back the nightmare at once, causing him to gasp rapidly. He reacted to the potential threat by sitting up, shooting his arms out to push the shadowy figure off of him. His eyes still hadn't adjusted to the dimness of the surrounding and he could hardly see things, but blind fear and wrath drove him on. So he leaped upon, pinning the unknown 'attacker' to the ground, ready to do murder in the outburst of fear fueled outburst of savage emotion._

_The other person cried out as his back hit the ground, his eyes widened in dread, a small whimper could be heard echoing off around them. The teen gazed down at the person pinned beneath him, finally recognizing the horrible attacker in his illusion._

_Catching his breath, he let go of the smaller boy, he had to consecrate just in order to school his own fingers to relax their iron grip around the child's wrists. Meanwhile, the younger one kept staring at him blankly, still lying on the ground as though he was too afraid to move a muscle._

_He was seeing things in his dream, a nightmare that caused bythat woman, The Dark Woman who used to wear a mask to hide her face, who possessed such great beauty yet whose heart was dark as the deepest midnight, such a sinfully beautiful woman, driven by unspeakable sadistic desire and cruelty; who led other Cult members to perform their fearsome Worship of blood and sacrifice on a daily base. Even in dreams he still couldn't escape from this Dark Woman...her images lingered at the back of his mind, her mocking laughter haunted him._

_The last thing he could recall before the nightmare was being summoned to the Dark Woman, who seemed to be a high ranking person of the Cultat least the Woman clearly was someone who could give orders to other members. And for some reason, she wanted to talk to him. This never happened with all of the interaction he had with any of the Cult members, all of them only treated him and the other captives no better than animals, preys which were ready for slaughter._

_So he was brought upstairs, alone to face the Dark Woman, and then.what happened in that exotic antiques-filled room upstairs when he was within the Dark Woman's presence?_

_In a gloomy corner of his mind, he could hear a female voice speaking to him, her words fainted as though it was from a great distance, but the imprints of them were still therelingering at the back of his mind. He was sure that she did tell him something, and it was supposed to be important, a matter of life and deathBut what did she really say to him? And what did her words actually mean? Why couldn't he recall them? Why it felt as thoughhe was afraid, unwilling to remember what she had said?_

_Not willing to give up, he force himself to try harder, to recall her exact words, but it only gave him more of a headache, as if there was something ominous in those memories, which he'd better left forgotten._

_Something was wrong, his mind was in too messed up a state to be considered as normal. His blurry incoherent memory, the previous violent outburst, the strange numbness which was weighting his limbs down...it just didn't like him, it felt as if he'd lost his mind and the control he had with himself, it also caused him to suspect if the Dark Woman had drugged him and if what he was experiencing the side effect of the unknown drug. At least it explained his dream of being force-fed some suspicious bitter liquid, and the bad taste at the back of his dry throat._

_Uncertain of himself and his blurry memory, he tried to shrug the bad feeling off, and once more his eyes drifted back to his company._

_The boy was still shivering, clinging into a ball out of fear, as if it could really protect him from harm. Pity filled him almost at once. It was his fault that now the other child was afraid of him. He had scared the boy so badlynow the smaller boy looked utterly terrified, slowly he crawled to the far corner away from him, peering up fearful for any other outburst._

_What was wrong with him? The older one groaned under his breath as regret sank in, he didn't know what had gotten into him at the moment, when he was trapped by that disturbing nightmare and what he saw in the said nightmare span him out of control, as a result he came so close to attack his own company, unintentionally out of sheer blind fear._

_He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands; feeling exhausted all of a sudden, but he knew he couldn't just give himself up on self loathing yet._

_Instead he slowly walked to the spot where the frightened child was kneeling; he sat down a few feet away from the younger one's shivering form. Then with the most nonthreatening manner he tried to explain that he was sorry for what he'd done, that he didn't mean to scare or hurt him._

_"Hey," Very slowly, the dark haired teen reached out his hand to stroke the smaller boy's hair in a hopefully smoothing way. "I'm sorry that I'd scared you. I justhad a very bad dream and I acted on impulse"_

_He had no idea could a boy so young really understood what he was trying to explain, but at least the latter wasn't backing away, which he took as a good sign._

_After a long moment of silence, the boy finally spoke in a small voice, his large watery eyes never left the older boy. "You have a bad dream? "_

_He couldn't bring himself to continue looking into the boy's eyes, the boy whom he had came so near to harm in delusion. Looking away, he replied as honestly as he could. He did feel terrible for scaring the boy. "Yes it's and I lost control. I'm really sorry."_

_Then much to his surprise, he felt a smaller hand covering upon his own, small fingers squeezing his, the raven head looked back up, only to be greeted by a weak yet trusting, forgiving smile of the younger boy._

_"It's okay then. You didn't really mean it, right?"_

_For a moment the teen didn't know what to say. The younger boy had good reason to fear and distrust him, but he did choose to forgive him out of good faith. And he didn't feel as though he deserved such among of trust._

_His fellow prisoner, this new found friend of miser...this boy didn't know what he had been thinking, that's the only reason why the boy trusted him so much. If the younger one ever discovered what he had been thinking lately, he would be so frightened that it would destroy any form of trust the boy had for him.  
_  
To be continued.


	4. Bond IV

Interlude Bond IV

 

"What's blood for, if not for shedding?"

                          -Candyman, based on Clive Barker's novella 'The Forbidden' 

__

_He knew that he didn't worth such trust. Unlike his innocent company, he was already corrupted, poisoned by the Dark Woman's malice, and her equally poisonous words._

_But what did the Dark Woman said?_

__"You will take part in the next ritual, boy. __

_That was what she had told him. ButWhat more had she mentioned? That was important! He must recall what she had said, word by word..it was the matter of life and death._

__And with your own hands you will bring us an innocent lamb __

_He now could hear her voice much more clearly, as if she was right there standing behind him, whispering into his ear; instantly the thought sent a shiver down his spine._

__only after that you might go free" __

_As unthinkable as it might appear, the way she said those words, and her mocking tone, it felt like the Dark Woman was making some kind of suggestion him._

_That womanjudging from physical appearance alone she couldn't possibly be related to the color black. Aside from her long mass of dark hair, she had the palest skin he had ever seen from anyone. But he still referred to her as the Dark Woman nonetheless because he instinctively sensed that darkness was the foundation of her true nature. She had spoken to him, he had witnessed some of her act of cruelty and bloodshed; all of those had spoken of volumes of evilness, and by listening to what she had to say and witnessing her deed, again he felt so strongly that he himself had also been tainted._

_As time passed, he felt his head beginning to grow heavier with sleepiness. He turned to look for his little company, only to find the boy lying at a corner of their prison, clinging to his side, fast asleep; it seemed like the boy had fallen asleep at the spot after the previous episode of unexpected outburst. The younger one looked even more fragile than usual when he was sleeping like this, unprotected._

_He wasn't sure for how long he had gazed at the slumbering figure from a distance, lost in thoughts. What should he do now, with the Cult's next bloody ritual drawing near, with himself still not able to find a way to escape for both of them---_

_As soon as this particular thought surfaced, he let out a heavy sigh in defeat. The thought had been lingering in his mind lately. As unwilling to admit it as he might be, he knew he had already reached a dead end. He had thought about everything, every hidden possibility, still he failed to figure out a ploy which could help him and his little company to escape together, the odds seemed to be all against this goal. Instead the more he thought about the deadly situation at hand, the more he was unable to stop another hideous idea from forming in his mind._

_He did want to believe that someone would eventually notice the hideous activity that took place inside this house, call the police and eventually the police troop would storm the lair of those evil Cult members, caught the bad guys and rescue them. But after so long, he had started to realize something like a heroic rescue mission wasn't going to take place._

_It was when desperation and anger seeped in._

_No one ever bothered to save them, or someone had tried but their attempts had all been a failure. Bear in mind that hundreds of children and underage teenagers went missing every year across the country. The police force barely had enough manpower to looking into each case carefully. Most likely they would consider those missing boys and girls mere runaways, running off from home at their own free will._

_Then it would only mean one thing._

_That it was entirely up to him to save himself._

_Plus it seemed that his biggest chance of survival had to be based on sacrificing his fragile new friend. It was like Devil whispering softly, secretly into his ear. If only he could direct the Cult's members' attention to the small boy, then they might choose to sacrifice the boy first instead of himself being chosen, thenmaybe, just maybe he could survive for a little longer, long enough to find a way to escape. It took some time for the thought to take root, he had fought against this selfish idea for so long, he wanted so much to deny the necessary of it, but eventually as the days drawn in and their remaining days numbered, he could not help finally agreeing with himself that it seemed to be the only logical, practical way to increase his own chance of survival._

_Sickened by his own selfish, cruel thought, the raven haired youth shook his head violently as if it could really shake the thought out of his own mind, but today the trick wasn't going to work and he knew it. His encounter with the mysterious Dark Woman had made it impossible not to thinking in this dreadful direction._

_He sighed again before dragging his tired body forward, trying to reach the pitiful excuse of a bed which he had made for himself out of various pieces of rubbish and broken pieces of furniture, but his movement came to a stop when his hand accidentally touched upon his coat's pocket._

_For the first time he realized there was something inside the said pocket, a light but solid weight nesting itself inside the small triangle space. An object which hadn't been there a few hours ago._

_With an unconscious frown, he thrust his hand inside, immediately the tips of his fingers touched upon something icy, a thin, narrow object made of cold metal._

_He gripped the thing before fishing it out to study it under better lighting. Once lying eyes on the cursed object, the Dark Woman's intention had came clear._

_What he found lying atop his palm was a small dagger. Though the dagger was small in size and it also looked insignificant, still the tip of its blade was sharp and dangerous, glittering faintly under the dim light._

_No one in the house would pass a weapon like this into his possession, no one. Perhaps saved forher. But what kind of kidnapper would hand a weapon to his or her hostage?_

_Surely the dragger he was holding now wasn't meant to be a defensive weapon, nor could he depending on it to save himself from the members of the Cult. Even though he now had a weapon in his possession, still he knew only too well that it was unrealistic to think he could fight his way out of the Cult's hideout with only one small dagger. They had the advantage of numbers, and all of them were adults, plus many members of the Cult had weapons to defend themselves._

_He had to figure out what was the Dark Woman's true motive, it must be hidden in the words she had said to him._

_Then realization hit him. She said that he had _potential_. That was what she had mentioned._

_And now he thought he might know exactly what kind of potential she believed having seen in him._

_A seed had taken root in his heart ever since he the day he half guessed what was in store for him in the nearly future, the tiniest seed of betrayal, of doing harm. A potential of doing_ bad _things._

_For a long moment he just sat there, staring down at the weapon on his hand. He thought he would panic, but the fear never came, instead he found himself calm and impassive, as distant as a neutral third party, a mere bystander._

_With this eccentric, fake sense of calmness, it didn't take him too long to figure out why _she_ of all people would give this little dagger to him._

_She wanted a game and she still viewed him as a controllable pawn, therefore instead of dirtying up their own hands once more and finish him off, she prefer to have him bowing to her whim. It was just part of the game for her, and for the rest of_ them __

 _To him the meaning of this dagger was obvious. Bring them a sacrifice, then he might walk away free. She had handed him a weapon, a tool to slaughter his own companion.  
_  
No! I won't do that! __

_He tried to gather his will to fight off this hideous thought, but at the very moment strength started to seep away from his limbs rapidly, leaving his mind clouded and confused. Itmust be the drug she had given him. And it was the last coherent thought lingered in his mind before he blacked out._

__  
Tbc


	5. Bond V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: It had been *years* since my last update, sorry about that. I'm not giving up though, so I hope you will enjoy it.
> 
> Note2: shifting of POV in this chapter!

Shadows Interlude: Bond V

_  
It was that woman, that beautiful, evil woman. It had all started because of her. She liked to whisper next to your ears, breathing down your neck while she talked. This soft, smooth, emotionless voice of her ordered and threatened, speaking soft hateful words to you. Her haunting voice…_

_Darkness had fallen upon me, everywhere I looked I could only see shadows moving all around me. There were some candles, made of black wax,  burning at the corners of the dark room but I still could hardly see anything clearly. I felt so cold. My mind kept spinning and spinning, I was powerless to stop it, my limbs felt weak like jelly. They must have drugged me.What had happened before I was brought here in this forsaken place?_

_The last thing I could remember clearly was being dragged out of my prison cell by a heavily robed man. Like all the other cultists,  his face was hidden beneath his hood so I couldn’t see him clearly. When this man reached out to grip me I tried to cry out for help as my captor simply slapped me across the face and pushed me through the door. I kept struggling all the way even though I knew my resistance was in vain. How could a mere child fight against the strength of a fully grown man?_

_The only one who could hear me and might actually want to offer help, you; were not even conscious at this moment. Before they dragged me out of the cellar I saw you lying on your back with your eyes shut, sprawling on the bare floor without moving a muscle. Perhaps they had also drugged you as well. So you could not do anything to save me when they came for me..._

_I was guarded up the staircases, and then forced to walk down a narrow hallway on the second floor of the house. Everywhere I turned I could only see locked doors and blocked up windows. The house was sealed up completely like a great cage, so the preys could never escape from within._

_I was crying even before the hooded man pushed me toward the last door at the end of the dim hallway. I knew they were going to do horrible things to me,_ soon; _and there was nothing I could do to stop them. It was too much! I shouldn’t be going through this! I wanted my parents! I was just a child! It shouldn’t be happen to me! I was just a kid I don’t want to die I want to go home IwasjustakidIdon’twanttodie---_

 __I don’t want to die! __

_But at the same time I _know_ it was really happening, and no one---not even my gentle, always caring parents could save me from this Hell now. Something bad was going to happen to me, like in those nightmares._

_Then the door was opened and I was shoved into the room roughly. A gasp of terror escaped from my throat as I fell forward and sprawled across the floor. I could hear the door being shut loudly behind me, leaving me inside a dark, strange surrounding._

_At first the room I was in looked similar to an old fashioned study you might see in some ancient haunted house movies. The room was finely ornamental by different pieces of antique furniture, but like the rest of the house, all the windows on the walls were blocked. The dim, yellowish candlelight of the black candles was the only source of light in this room._

_Struggling to a kneeling position, I began to notice the thick blood-red lines on the bare floor beneath me: a closer look took me there was a star-shaped pattern being drawn on the floor, which I would learnt much latter to be a pentagram, by accidental, I had landed inside the center of the up-side-down five pointed star._

_Out of desperation, I looked back only to find the man who had dragged me to this room,  was now standing guard by the locked door, the only exit to the hallway outside. Instantly I know it would be impossible for me to get past the man and then get to the door. Who was I kidding anyway? I could not even stand up properly, I was weakened by fear and despairs; trying to outrun my captors would be impossible._

_I was so powerless in front of my tormentors._

_A shadow shifted across the room, causing me to turn in alarm. Now I saw aside from the male guard, someone else was also there with me. A dark haired woman was sitting comfortably behind a large, heavy-looking wooden desk, she was also clothed in the same black heavy robe like the rest of the Cult members. She sat facing me but she had been so quiet, sitting so still like she was a status made of moon white marble._

_She took my breath away, for a moment I even forgot to cry. I am certain she must be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, but what had bewildered me so utterly wasn’t her beauty. It was her expression, and the powerful dark aura which seemed to radiate from her body. Her form was feminine and delicate, she was nothing like those scary looking male guards, but something deep within my soul shattered when she stared at me with those cold unfeeling orbs of her. Instantly I knew I was nothing better than a little worm to her._

_She did nothing but smirking at me, her eyes didn’t even blink. Her fine featured face and her dark eyes showed no hint of mercy, no sign of emotion aside from mockery and malice. Her bright red lips curled upward into a cold, smooth smirk, as if the sight of me--a fearful child kneeling miserably before her,  somehow amused her greatly._

_Neither the woman nor the male guard by the door made any more to harm me, therefore I seized the chance to scan my surrounding, still hoping to find a way out---part of me had already known I wouldn’t find anything, but the other part of me was still foolishly and stubbornly wanted to try. But my concentration was broken when I caught movements on the mysterious woman’s desk. It took me a few second to see there was a dark iron cage on top of her wooden desk. Inside the cage, there was a kitty with coal black fur. The small creature was now pacing from one side to another inside the iron cage, as if the same like me, it was trying to find an escape._

_I stared at the black kitty, mesmerized. It was the first time I saw a living animal inside this house..._

_There were several of adults within this house, adding only two children as prisoners. In my mind there were only two of us. As to our jailers, for most of the time I didn’t even want to consider them humans._

_The other boy-- my fellow captive, who was older than me; despite being a child himself his eyes had already hardened. The dark circles beneath his eyes, and the deep shadows within his orbs both faintly hinting at what he had witnessed within this house during his imprisonment; haunting, frightening events which he never breathed a word about. Sometime there was a determined look in his feature which made him appear to be older than his age. He told me our captors were dangerous and mad and we should never trust them. He said he would protect me, he would find a way for us to escape, and I had believed him._

_But I had never told him what I had learnt and guessed over time, I had never mentioned all those horrible nightmares keeping me awake at nights, in those nightmares I always saw the broken, bloody forms of little boys and girls about my age, whom I had never seen before, and I could also heard the echoes of their scream._

_I knew...those were more than just nightmares, those children really existed, I knew they were real; I also thought I knew what had become of them, even without being told._

_Aside from this small representative of life, the room itself reeked so heavily of death. The darkened floor looked wet with black stains. I closed my eyes, I would rather not wonder what those stains really were._

_With no other option left, I was forced to look back at the woman behind the desk. Taking one long look at her, instantly I knew she really was the one in charge. In here, within this house of nightmares, this woman held the power of life and death, the other cult members were nothing but her minions, her tools._

_My only company, my inmate, the dark haired, pale boy who did what he can to care for and protect me, who told me our captors were dangerous and mad and they wished us ill so we had to be on guard, all the time. This older boy who would not tell me what had become of those other children, those children who had been trapped here before us. But I was not as ignorant as he might believe. I had already had those nightmares about those screaming, terrified children, I had also noticed some of the evident: pieces of rag which used to be children’s clothes, the empty, tiny cells which had obviously been used before... therefore I_ know _there were others unfortunate souls who had been kidnapped and trapped in the cellar, even though I had chosen to keep quiet about my discovery. As though not speaking about them could them less_ real _._

_Now standing in this dark room, facing this woman, now I was forced to face the truth. Deep down I _knew_ what had happened to those other children. The answer was so obvious, I couldn’t even lie to myself anymore._

_Those other captives were all died, murdered in the hands of those insane cultists. They didn’t have any intention to let any one of their captive leave this place alive._

_I, alongside with my inmate, would be next to fall prey to these cultists’ sadistic lust for murder, pain and innocent blood._

_Finally I could no longer lie to myself, I had to face the brutal truth._

_Was it the reason why they brought me up to this gloomy room? Did they plan to sacrifice me right then and there? Was it what they were up to?_

_The woman sank back to the backrest behind her and made a small hand gesture. I didn’t realize it at first but seconds later I realized her gesture was meant for the male guard behind me to see. Because the next thing I know, I was gripped by the hair and forced to kneel straight on the floor, the guard forced me to arch my head backward before he held a glass against my lower lips, forcing mouthful after mouthful of strange-smelling liquid down my throat._

_I tried to resist but I was held fast. When the guard finally release me I could do nothing but to fall back to the floor, gasping for breath. I tried to split the strange liquid back out but it was too late---the guard had made sure I had swallowed every drop of it before he let go._

_When I tried to stand up, my palms pressed upon a large  wet spot on the bare floor, I quickly dragged myself up to the back of my heels, I could feel my palms were soaked by something...something too thick and slippery to be water. Out of sheer instinct I looked down at my palms, only to find them blacked and wet with some sort of unknown thick liquid. I screamed when my panic-struck brain realized what the ‘liquid’ really was._

_At the center of the crimson star-shaped pattern which I had fallen right into, there were a large spot of dried blood seeped to the wooden floor. Unspeakable things had taken place here, and I was kneeling at the exact spot where those other children were slaughtered._

_I dragged myself away from the bloody spot as far as I could, still screaming blue murder when I backed away. I tried to stand up--perhaps I still want to escape even though I should have known I would never ever be able to get to the door; my legs collapsed under me as soon as I tried to stand. I fell back to the floor, panting; and much to my shock strength was quickly slipping from my limbs and my head was starting to spin. I continued to scream as I struggled to put my limbs back in working order but failed. It was when I realized they must have drugged me, something had to be inside the glass of strange smelling liquid the guard had forced me to drink…...the thought sent me to the edge of  overwhelming dread, was I poisoned? Was I really going to die here?_

_Then I heard her laughter, echoing my own cry of panic. Her voice was sharp and cruel and ugly, unfitting for a beautiful woman like her, still on and on she laughed with this mocking, harsh voice._

__”I see that you has realized the truth. Am I right, Child?” _It was the very first thing she said to me._

_My only answer was another howling scream, I cried out at the top of my lungs, as if making so much loud could save me, but all it did was amused the woman even more._

__”You know what’s in store for you...such a clever little boy.” _She whispered, her voice almost sweet, like a mother speaking to her beloved child._

_Yes...I was forced to confirm what was awaiting me. I had seen the bloodstain, despite of the dull candle light, I could tell the entire floor was covered by hideous, suspicious blacked stains._

_Blood, a lot of blood had been spat in this room._

_But she was still talking to me with the same sickeningly sweet voice._ ”Then you may probably also guess that only one of you can live..”.

_Only one of you can live?_

_A shiver shook down my spine, I thought part of me could understand exactly what she was referring to, but...I couldn’t face it...I wasn’t ready to face the horrible truth, my mind was still trying to escape…_

__“But I see that you have potential, Child. Therefore for this reason alone I will give you one chance to live...” __

_I didn’t understand what she was talking about when she mentioned ‘potential’, but her promise of survival  drew in my attention immediately._

_This woman...she was not like the adults I had met in the past. Every adult else would have expected to see a harmless small child when they set eyes on me, but this woman was different. When she fixed her bottomless cold eyes on me, I sensed that she was seeing right through me, searching for the darkest part of my soul, and what she was seeing was not something beautiful or innocent. Was it only part of her mind game, or was it really what she was seeing when she saw me…? Something dark and unclean, hiding beneath a facade of innocence._

__Who will live? Which one of you will be the survivor? It’s not up to me, it’s all up to you. _The dark haired woman whispered with pure malice in her voice. She was obviously taking pleasure in delivering the death sentence._

 __”So you have to choose... _The woman continued._ and fight for the privilege to survive…” __

_She made it sound like it was all up to my free will, my own choice. She made it sound like she did nothing to manipulate me or to play with my mind…_

__”The price of your life, in exchange of another life. With your own hands you will bring us a lamb to slaughter…” __

_But it was only a lie, she played with the frightened mind of a child without mercy, his broken spirit..._

_Suddenly cold fingers touched upon my cheek, I nearly jumped out of my skin; for now the evil woman was kneeling before me, her face only inches away from mine._

_In this drug-inspired trance, I didn’t even know when did she cross the distance and reach me._

_Her long, bony fingers gripped my chin firmly, forcing my head up so I had  to meet her cold piercing gaze._

__”Look at you. These innocent eyes, this lovely childish face...you’re so innocent. At least you look so innocent…_ _

__Therefore I very much want to see how far will you go in order to save yourself...”_ _

_With those words she took my hand, I was so weak at this point I could not even try to break away from her hold, I could barely think about resisting; all I could see was her delicate face, her soulless dark eyes, her cruel smirk, she was filling my vision, filling up my mind with her poisonous suggestion. Faintly I felt an object being passed into my hand. Strange that I didn’t even need to look down to know what had been shoved to me._

_What I was now holding was the smooth handle of a thin little blade, the corners of my eyes were still able to catch the cold glint from the edge of the blade despite of the dim surrounding._

_She had offered me a choice, a choice other than a certain death._

_I accepted her offer._

_What she wanted was a blood ritual. This time she wanted the sacrifice being presented to her and her dark gods by a pair of unwilling hands; not by killing in random.That no doubt, would increase the satisfaction._

_I was too scared, I wanted a way out of this living hell. I wanted nothing more than to go home to my parents, I wanted to see them I wanted to live. I had to live._

_I wanted to live, and for that I would do anything._

_So I chose to pick up the blade that evil woman had given me, and did her bidding._

_Something fell before my face like a screen, it took me a few second it was a mask, and now the woman was fasting the mask over my face by tying the strings together at the back of my head. Peering out through the mask with my vision narrowed into two small holes, I found the room becoming even more gloomy, shadows seemed to be lurking at the corners of my eyes...._

_Now she was dragging the black kitty out from its cage, she held onto the animal tightly to prevent it  from escaping. Now she was holding it down on the floor, placing it before me._

_The little creature struggled wildly against her, as if the kitty knew  what was coming.The kitty’s tiny sharp claws were leaving bright red fresh scars upon her skin, but the black robed woman showed no sign of feeling any pain, even when tiny beads of blood were drifting along her wrists. She...really wasn’t normal. To me she looked like a humanlike empty shell, devoid of normal emotion._

_Was she really a human? Or was she a demoness, a wicked witch from children’s nightmares? What would become of me, after having accepted a wicked, deadly little gift from this evil woman?_

__”Try.” _The dark woman suggested in a seductive tone._ ”...try.” __

_And try I did. Like being in a surreal trance, I did what I was told._

_The first cut was the hardest, but after a time, after the struggle and cries from the tortured animal stopped, it became easier._

_Once you got the handle of it, everything became so much_ easier.

 

to be continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think this chapter is well written, but I had done all I could with it.=__=


	6. Bond VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: It had been *years* since spider_tear first started this story and I first picked up what she'd left behind, and somehow the fanfic gets really long-winded and confusing (even for me) at times. I’m not giving up though, so I hope you will enjoy it (if there’s still any reader left, that is).

Bond VII

_  
He could hardly fight back when a pair of cultists threw the locked door open, storming into the cellar and dragging him out of his prison cell, his limbs were heavy and barely able to support his own weight; his head felt heavy as though someone had poured liquefied iron down inside his skull. The aftereffect of the drug fed to him was still there, weighing him down, blurring his vision, clouding his mind._

_Just before he was being dragged through the heavy door, he turned back to look for his little company, only to find the younger boy--his fellow inmate---was nowhere in sight. The boy wasn’t in his own cell, he seemed to be nowhere within the underground prison._

_His heart sank instantly. He knew what the boy’s absence might indicate._

_Where was he? Was he…?_

__Was he? __

_What _they_ had done to him…?_

_Was he being dragged out to meet the same dark fate which might already befell his defenseless company?_

_Thousands of possibilities of what might become of his younger inmate flashed through his mind at once, and none of those pictures gave him any comfort. Something must have happened to his company when he was drugged and barely conscious, he had no possible way to know what exactly had happened, he only knew whatever had taken place, it just had to be bad,_ very _bad._

_However, an impatient kick to his stomach effectively knocked the wind out of him, shocking him out of his train of gloomy thoughts. The raven haired youth didn’t even have the time to recover from the kick before he was dragged to follow his captor and made his way upstairs._

_He was shaking uncontrollably, thinking what was in store for him. Still he kept telling himself to calm down. He was alone with no one else to defend him, even his only fellow inmate was gone now. Still, he couldn’t give up now. He_ knew _he couldn’t give up. If he stopped trying to sober up, that would be the end._

_He knew his time was running out, therefore as heartless as it sounded, for the time being he must push the thoughts about his fellow younger inmate out of his mind. He knew wild guessing wouldn’t save him now, what he needed to do now was to _act_ , and it had to be fast. For his own life depended solely upon it. No one had managed to find them, no one had bothered to come and save them...so it was up to him to defend himself._

_Despite of the drugs still affecting his brain, still at the back of his feverish mind, he knew this time his captors were closing in for the kill. He could sense their excitement oozing out from his two jailers’ bodies, he could recognize the look of pure bloodthirsty on their faces, making him realize to his captors, the time of playing had already came to an end, this time they want a true sacrifice._

_If he gave up fighting now, it really would be the end of him._

_Just when he thought his fear couldn’t get any more overpowering, his masked captor came to a stop, right before the cursed room, in where the member of the Cult held all of their forsaken bloody rituals._

_In the past, he was only being forced to be a helpless witness of the cultists’ madness and cruelty, he had been forced to witness the death of other captive children, but this time he knew almost without a doubt that the Cult had made the decision, this time his captors would do away with him, making him their helpless_ victim _instead of a mere helpless audience._

_This time, they were not going to spare him._

_As soon as the truth dawned upon him, he did everything he could to slow his pace, trying to delay the inevitable, but his captors were far stronger than him, soon enough they had arrived, and the cultists opened the door without delay. The next thing he knew, he was being shove through the entrance of the room---_

_He had expected to see the other cultists crowding the room ---they always did, for no one was willing to miss out a sacrifice. Like a pack of greedy, hungry wolves, the masked cultists would gathered around their altar, reciting  their dark prayers. They were all waiting for one thing---the latest helpless lamb to be led before the altar and then slaughtered before their very eyes. They would form a circle, then waited for their victims---usually screaming, struggling captive children, to be brought into the room and then drained into the circle they formed._

_Then, they would begin._

_The youth knew their hateful routines by heart, for he had always been forced to stand at the corner of this cursed room and forced to watch other children being tied down with in the huge pentagram painted on the tainted floor and then they were forced to endure unimaginable torments and suffering before they took their last, painful breath._

_He had expected to be dragged pass the gathering cultists--only that it didn’t happen, instead he was left falling face first to the floor. There were no impatient hands shooting up to drag him across the room, there was no uneven noise of breathing from the gathered cultists, he didn’t even hear any whisper and noise---in fact, it didn’t even feel like there was anyone else in the room._

_At first the black haired youth didn’t even dare to get up, it was too quiet, and this quietness scared him._

_Carefully he scanned the room, only to confirm his suspicion that this time the cultists weren’t lying in wait. He had expected to see the cultists crowding within this room, like they always did. Usually none of them would be willing to miss a sacrifice ritual, not a single one of them.  So why none of them was here now?_

_Something was certainly off when his captors made no move to harm him. None of them were around here---_

_Or were they?_

_He scanned the room once again, but failed to see much within the room, the room was poorly lit with only a few candles. How could it be? Aside from the time when the captives were thrown back to the cells within the basement, they were never left by themselves. Someone...they were always watching them, whenever they were allowed out of their cell._

_What was going on? Where did the cultists go? What had happened to the boy?_

_He knew there was at least one cultist outside of the door---the silent male guards who had brought him upstairs to this room.Could the guards still be waiting at the other side of the door? Could the rest of the cultists also there, laying in wait?_

_In the last second, his glance fell upon the floor and finally saw something he had previously missed in his panic: he was actually not alone, across the room, someone was lying on the floor._

_Once his sight became focused enough, it did not take long for the raven head to recognize the small body sprawling on the floor, within the pentagram where so many previous victims had been slaughtered, motionless. It was his missing inmate._

_At first, dread filled him like ice as he feared for the worst, but he soon became aware of the fact that there was no blood upon his company’s body. The most important thing was, the younger boy’s chest was still rising and falling slowly with the rhythm of his breath; so he was still alive!_

_The raven haired youth could hardly believe it. Was the boy drugged as well, so he was being put into sleep and then left in this cursed room, did the cultists expect him to remain unconscious when they returned, unable to defend himself when the cultists finally prey on him?_

_Act, he needed to act, fast. The youth reminded himself again, and rushed to the unconscious boy’s side. Still, he didn’t see any of those cultists, still no one had come up and tried to stop him. He had to wonder for how long those torturers of his were going to stay put._

_He couldn’t understand why those cultists would just leave him alone and allow him to act freely--they didn’t even bother to bind him, it didn’t make sense. At the back of his mind, he knew something was definitely wrong---_

_However, there wasn’t enough time to analyze everything, though. He needed to hurry._

_So he kneeled before the little boy’s sprawled form, his hands came to rest on either sides of the boy’s shoulders, he tried to shake him awake._

_“Wake up.” He called out softly, not daring to make too much noise, fearing that if he raised his voice too loud, this fragile calm before the deadly windstorm would break. Every fiber of his being was telling him they hadn’t yet reach to safety, they were still so far from being safe._

_“Wake up, please...” Even he could he the desperation started creeping into his own voice. If he could get the other boy to wake up, the two of them might still be able to make a run of it, this desperate thought was what he had been counting on. But the boy must wake up fast for this plan to work._

_With no other choice, he gave the unconscious boy a hard slap._

_The slap seemed to echo within the four walls, but much to his relief,  the small body stirred under his hands. Within the second, the boy’s eyes snapped open._

_He held his breath as he watched the boy slowly turned his head to the side, staring up at him._

_Instantly he was filled with relief. The younger boy was alright “Can you move? It’s time, we need to get out of here!”_

_It startled him to hear himself uttering those words: _we need to get out of here_. Still, instantly he knew it was what had to be done. As unlikely as it seemed, he had to escape now, the decision which he had struggled to make for far too long had become so simple at this moment: it was now or never, dead or alive._

_Sitting up, the younger one still made no response, his eyes were eerily empty, but he was in too much relief to notice this strange fact, nor his younger company’s eerie quietness._

_He quickly drew himself upright before dragging his younger inmate to his feet as well. Walking out of the door was a suicidal move, for their captors might very well be hidden behind the door, so where should they go?_

_His eyes came to rest upon a window, it seemed also to be locked but the window looked old and its glass was partly broken and its rusty frame seemed worn out, perhaps he could break this window open, perhaps  they could try to climb through it and climb down to the ground floor and make a run of it._

_This escape plan was highly premature and had many holes in it, but time was running out and he was desperate enough to try anything._

_With his eyes still fixed upon the window, he gripped the boy’s hand, trying to drag him to where the window stood._

_But much to his surprise, the boy refused to move._

_Impatiently he turned his back, time was ticking and the Cultists might return in any given second. They really had no time for hesitation and delay!_

_“Hey, what are you---”_

_His words died rapidly as a sharp pain pierced through his body._

_At first he didn’t understand what was going on, he looked downward, then his eyes widened in disbelief._

_Even under the dim candlelight, he could see dark crimson liquid spreading across the lower part of his shirt._

_The undeniable sharp pain seemed to take root at his lower torso, something sharp had cut deeply into his side._

_He shivered, moving silently away from the younger boy, he didn't want to believe it but the pain was too real to deny._

_He dragged himself backward, his hand subconsciously press against his aching side. Hot, slippery wetness seeped across his palm immediately._

_He didn't have to look down to know the thick wetness against his palm was blood._

_He was stabbed, blood was welling out from the gash on his side._

_Despite his hand pressed tightly against the wound, blood still quickly sprung downward, soaking the top of his trousers._

_The wound...it must be deep..._

__" You..." __

_He stared at the younger boy in disbelief. The boy stood in front of him, his fragile, helpless little inmate. The little boy---who was really just a child, whom he so desperately wanted to save._

_But now...the little boy had stabbed him, the expression on the boy’s face was still unmistakable, there was no fear on this soft little face, there was only a sense of terrible joy and satisfaction. Worse still, he was_ smiling. __

_Yes, the little boy’s lips were curling upward into a smile when he stabbed him._

_" Why...?"_

_There was no answer, but he wasn't surprised. The boy was too far gone to give any reply._

_At the back of his head, he thought he had actually knew why the boy would betray him in the last moment, even before this betrayal could take place, but he still wasn’t ready to face the harsh truth._

_He knew what had motivated the younger boy to do this._

_It was what these cultists wanted._

_They wanted to spill blood, but this time they didn’t want to dirty up their own hands._

_They wanted to corner their wounded captives, and forced them to fight_ each other _to death,_ among themselves. _Obviously they thought it would make the killing even_ more _exciting and worthy._

_That’s the true reason why the Dark Woman would leave the knife with him when he was drugged and sent back to the prison in their basement. The knife was a bait to lure him into attacking his own friend._

_When he failed to react according to their demand and desire, the Dark Woman and her minors tried_ something else _._

 _They got hold of his friend, giving him the same offer:_ kill him and you may live, you may go home _,and then they drugged him._

_They probably thought by doing so, they would finally have their mindless killing little puppet._

_And this time, they were_ right _._

_****_

_With his knees weakened due to the blood loss, his legs finally gave in, leaving him kneeling on the bare floor. Although he was still holding his upper body upward, but it was already a struggle trying to keep himself upright._

_Vaguely, he became aware of the room becoming brighter when candles were being lit around the room. Then he could hear footsteps approaching--many pairs of footsteps, and he didn’t even know where did these footsteps came from. All at once, they seemed to be approaching from all directions._

_Soon a pair of boots and the hem of a thick black robe coming into his view._

_He looked up to find himself facing the Dark Woman, who, unlike the other cultists, was without mask and was towering over him with a smirk on her pale, delicate face._

_He should have been surprised and scared, but in this moment, he only felt numb._

_The rest of the cultists were slowly stepping into their places, fanning out to form a circle around him and their female leader. He was surrounded from all side._

_His younger inmate was also inside this circle now, the boy had made no move ever since he had put a blade through him, even now he made no move to resist when one of the cultists wordlessly pushed him toward the Dark Woman, making him stand next to her._

_“You think you’re the only one who had been offered a chance? You think you’re so_ special _that we have to offer this chance_ only _to you?” The Dark Woman directed the questions to him with mockery clear in her voice. “Foolish child, you had made a mistake.”_

_The youth watched the Dark Woman mutely, then shifted his gaze toward his younger inmate, the one he thought was his alliance in this deadly trap. The little boy’s face was now covered by a dark half mask, perhaps one of the cultists had fastened the mask upon the boy’s face at some point. He hadn’t seen them doing this, but at this point it was hardly a concern._

_With the mask hiding the top half of the little boy’s face, it was nearly impossible to tell his expression, he could only see hints of cold, unblinking eyes and lips which were pressed together to form a thin line. Standing beside the Dark Woman, the short, thin framed boy stood no more than five feet away from him. His smallish fingers locked in a dead grip around the handle of an up-pointing blade. The tip of the blade was gleaming with drops of crimson liquid. He knew this was his own blood. The sharp blade had already tasted blood, and now...it looked like it also wanted more._

_“All I had to do is to tell this boy what kind of choice he has, the only choice.” Somewhere nearby, the Dark Woman was still talking to him in her mocking voice._

_“I told him how easy it’s to put something down, to destroy them---even a living being. How this boy had learnt! He surely is smarter than you--”_

_More ugly truth was being revealed._

_He had warned the boy, he had tried to get the younger one to be prepared, but in the end his effort was in vain. Instead, he was betrayed._

_“Now you are going to pay for your own foolishness...”_

_"Your friend here...I'm sure you think of him as your 'friend', right?" Giving his side a kick to get his attention, the Dark Woman asked with the same mocking false sweetness in her tone.  Her tone made it more than clean that she was enjoying every moment of it. "We had taught him a few things when you were out cold in your cell. I believe you would like to experience firsthand what we had taught him, wouldn't you?"_

_With those words, she commanded the little boy to come forward with a hand gesture, and like the drugged up little puppet that he was, the boy feebly followed her order. One step, then one more, getting closer._

_"No..." The wounded raven haired youth did his best to back off, trying to keep his damaged body out of harm's way. "...please, not like this...."_

_He could hardly believe he was begging now, before today he simply_ didn't _beg, not even when the cultists was abusing him or forcing him to witness one awful scene of murder after another, but he was begging now. He was begging in front of this drugged up, half crazed child with a sharp blade in his hand._

_He looked deeply into the boy's eyes, and what he saw in those eyes killed his last hope._

_What he saw in the boy's orbs was mindlessness, his thoughts obviously clouded by madness which was as dark as night, a hint of bloodlust lacing around the orbs of the boy's bloodshot eyes._

__"You didn't tell me."

In the haze of madding pain and fatal dizziness, he was actually startled to hear the boy spoke out of the blue. His words didn't make sense to him, though. He said: You didn't tell me _, he said it like it was an accusation._

 _It was true...he had never told the boy exactly what their captors had planned for them, nor did he mention any of the approaching horror...he had held things back for he didn't actually_ trust his only company to be strong enough to withstand the shock and fear the truth would certainly bring.

Now his decision had proved to be a mistake. Now the boy...believed _he_ was the betrayer.

Instantly he realized it was useless to plea or reason. No plea of his could get through to the boy’s mind, nothing _could get through into his newly broken mind._

_Before he could form more thought, the knife was raised to the highest point by the boy's pair of small arms and then, it came down for him._

_He managed to duck away from the first stab, then the second one and the one after that; but his strength was giving out quickly, eventually he couldn't block those stabs any longer. He was reduced to merely raise up his arms above himself for protection._

_With no hesitation, the stabs continued to fall down upon him. Soon his skin were covered with random cuts, he knew he was bleeding and pain exploded at the ends of his nerve system with each cut._

_Most of the wounds and cuts weren't deep enough to be fatal, but if the boy managed to create more wounds upon his body, he would still die of blood loss. It was only the matter of time._

_"Please, don't do this! " He begged even when he knew it was useless, he pleaded for mercy which he knew wouldn't come."Don't hurt me anymore! Stop!"_

_He looked up, much to his shock the boy did indeed pause._

_The younger boy's eyes were still blank, emotionless...but now did he dared think there was a tiniest hint of…...confusion in those orbs? And were his arms trembling even so slightly?_

_Could he dare to hope...it wasn't the end? That his young company of misery had not yet been brainwashed into an entirely mindless killing puppet?_

__Things shouldn’t end this way. __

_The thought suddenly flashed through his clouded mind, with that another thought pierced through the dizziness, it was only a vague thought, but if it could _work _...___

___“Please…” His breaths came out short and uneven, an unpleasant hissing sound to his ears. He was pleading once again, making himself sound as pathetic and weak as he could. His tongue felt unbelievably thick and clumsy when every word he uttered would mean life or death... “...Let’s get out of here---”_ _ _

___This time, the pleas seem to have no effect on the boy. Ignoring his words, the boy raised the blade again, his eyes were once again blank, empty of emotion and thought._ _ _

___The older boy did not have any real strength left to defend myself, so he just let himself fall, dropping to the ground, crawling on the hard wooden floor until he could lay on his side, facing his former friend who was now slowly approaching him with no thought but murder in his damaged mind._ _ _

___The black haired teen held himself very still here, trying to appear to the world a defeated, helpless, pathetic little prey who was very much close to dying. In doing so, he was trying to buy some time, hoped he could convince the cultists they were in no hurry to finish him off, they still had all the time in the world to enjoy the show._ _ _

___Thankfully the cultists seemed to be indeed convinced by his little act, he could hear they still chuckling, they now focused their attention on the boy, who was still moving toward him, ready for the kill._ _ _

___He still couldn't see the boy's expression clearly due to the mask fastened on his face, but he suspected the boy's face would be completely blank, his eyes empty and out of focus... Still laying on his side, the raven haired teen could hear from a distance that the Dark Woman was speaking although the meaning of her words was beyond him. Still he could tell once she finished speaking, the other cultists would finally take action._ _ _

___And taking action they did, although the youth soon realized he had mistaken the cultists’ true intention._ _ _

___Still laying on the floor, He watched as those other cultists slowly gathered around the boy, cornering him. One of them snaked behind the boy, one hand shooting out to grip the boy by his hair, while the other hand removing the blade from his hand. As if in a trance, the boy just let the cultist hold him fast and unarmed him._ _ _

___He watched this unexpected twist of events in bewilderment, instead of letting the younger boy finish the dirty job for them, or going after their wounded victim themselves, the cultists were holding the boy down and unarming him._ _ _

___Meanwhile, the Dark Woman herself had shifted closer to where the boy was held, with a knife ready in her own hand. She looked down at their captive, smirking as widely as a child in the Christmas morning._ _ _

___Instantly he realized what their actions meant, the Dark Woman had changed her mind: after all the talks about sparing one of their lives, the cultists were still going to kill_ both _of them at the very end.__ _

___Even after the little boy did everything they had ordered him to do, they were still going to harm him in the end. They would do this even for no reason, they simply_ wanted _to hurt him, hurt every other victims they could put their dirty hands upon, just they had already killed all the other kidnapped children. This was in their nature.__ _

___And almost at the same time, he realized he couldn’t let this happen. He had already injured and lost so much blood, but he still had to try, otherwise he would not live to see the next sunrise. It was for certain._ _ _

___With a groan, he rolled over to the side of the room, as if he was pitifully trying to avoid another attack,some of the cultists might notice his action and broke away from the circle to go after him as well, because even without looking up he could hear footsteps approaching, taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes._ _ _

___Ignoring the sharp pain on his stomach, he rolled out of reach and ditched sideways then with a quick dive._ _ _

___Fortunately, none of the cultists seemed to expect any counterattack. With the element of surprise on his side, the black haired youth was able to deal his first blow. He rushed toward a lamp, knocking it over to let the lamp oil splash on a few cultists who tried to go after him. At the same time, his other hand shot out to grip the nearest black candle, then he threw the still-burning candle at those cultists, setting the spilled lamp oil aflame with it. Instantly those men caught fire._ _ _

___At once, time seemed to slow down to a point of standing still, it must be some kind of trick performed by his brain in its survival mode, yet the dark haired could swear from this point onward, time did slow down around him, allowing him to see things around him in extreme focus, helping him to react to the threats on a purely instinctual level._ _ _

___Much later, this extreme concentration would cost him, for years afterward he would still be able to relive the events in his mind, in every painful detail._ _ _

___At once, piercing scream rang in his ears, he watched those cultists trying to extinguish the fire as it licked at their clothes and flesh, whilst their comrades tried to jump away from them in order to avoid getting burned too._ _ _

___Now there was panic, now the circle formed by cultists was broken apart, now he couldn't afford to hesitate. Now it was the matter of survival or death, kill or be killed._ _ _

___If in the end he still failed to make it out alive, at least he would bring down as many cultists with him as he could._ _ _

___So he acted at once, without giving his enemies chance to react, he shoved one of the burning cultists toward his fleeing comrades, the man lost his balance, crushing with a fellow comrade before they all went down to the floor. Flame rose up from the spot of where they had fallen._ _ _

___The second cultist caught fire as well and he was also screaming, hands crawling in the mid air, begging from his other comrades to save him._ _ _

___For him and the younger boy, the crisis wasn't over yet. He couldn't wait for his enemies to snap out of panic and regroup, with his weakening strength, the raven head reached out for the younger boy, dragging him away from the panicking cultists. Thankfully the boy was seemingly still in some kind of trance, he did not resist when he was dragged backward, nor did  he try to harm his rescuer again._ _ _

___At the corners of his eyes, he could see a few cultists running for the door, perhaps they thought if they could unlock the door, then they might escape to safety. And this was exactly what he had been waiting for the cultists to do. He didn’t have the keys, so someone must open the door for him. Their slim chance of survival depended on the door being unlocked, it was their own chance to freedom---_ _ _

___He would kill to make sure he could make it outside of this accused room._ _ _

___Chaos was spreading, fire everywhere, catching up more and more people, claiming more victims. the few cultists who had made it to the door were still struggling to unlock it._ _ _

___There was an object lying on the floor, half engulfed with burning flame, and he didn't hesitate to grin the still burning object and throw it at the escaping cultists just when they managed to unlock the door and push it wide._ _ _

___Again one of the cultists caught fire almost instantly, the man screamed in pain as his other comrades rushed past him and fled, leaving him to burn right before the exit to safety._ _ _

___Beside fire, he also had another weapon to take down his foes. His blade, previously given to him by the Dark Woman._ _ _

___When a cultist came charging at him, the youth shifted to avoid the attack, and sank his blade to the cultist's side._ _ _

___The man groaned in pain, his eyes widened in disbelief as he realized he was stabbed, the wound was likely to be not fatal--for he didn’t have enough strength to drive the blade deep, but the cultist was shocked anyway and so the youth didn't hesitate to use it against this foe again. At this point both his palms were burnt by the flame as he lit the injured cultist up, setting him on fire; then he pushed this injured, half crazed cultist forward and used him as a burning weapon against the remaining cultists. He could smell his own burnt flesh but he ignored the pain and struck again._ _ _

___He had to be glad that the cultists were all so fond of playing with fire (they had used fire to burn their victims skin as much as using it to dispose the bodies afterward, plus electric lighting had never been used within this room for rituals). Now he was making them paid, he was now watching them burnt as those robed cultists screaming in terror, pushing against each other as though it could save them but in reality their action only helped the fire to spread further._ _ _

___More pieces of furniture in the room were catching fire in the meantime, it wouldn't take long for the entire room to be engulfed, but the dark haired youth didn't care, even when it meant he would have to burn with them, if he didn't manage to escape from here fast enough._ _ _

___He scanned the cultists' faces, it took him a few seconds to recognize the Dark Woman’s among those robed figures._ _ _

___Under the firelight, he saw her, she had been backed to the corner of the room, her back pressed against the wall behind her._ _ _

___One thing he knew for certain:_ She needed to die._ _

___The Dark Woman and her comrades thought they were the chosen ones of the Devil, but what had taken place today_ had proved them wrong _. They were every bit as human as the rest of the mere mortals. Just as vulnerable, pathetic, weak.__ _

___For once, the Devil was on_ his _side today. Now he needed to counting on Him to continue staying on his side. Blood was singing in his veins, he needed more luck...__ _

___...and he didn't care who might offer luck to him, be it fate, the deities or the devils, he didn't care who might be sending it his way. He needed one chance---desperately. Everything was depending on it, his life depended on it._ _ _

___With strength which he hardly realized still having, he leaped toward the Dark Woman, holding the blade in a deathlike grip. He only had one chance._ _ _

___At the final moment, their eyes met, for the first time he saw the Dark Woman's eyes widened, he saw the first hint of fear bleeding into her orbs. At the final moment, she tried to rise her hands to defend herself, but he was quicker, he felt the tip of the blade drove through her flesh. He could hardly believe his luck, the blade was driven home, burying deep into her chest with a sickening wet sound._ _ _

___Strength seemed to finally leave him then, his hands dropped, leaving the blade buried into the Dark Woman's chest as blood slowly seeped out from around the wound._ _ _

___He watched as she bled. Yes, she was bleeding, she was human after all, not some satanist demoness, not some mythic creature who was unkillable. He did it, he was_ ending _her. She was so beautiful, but she was also a monster, now she must die.__ _

___The woman gasped loudly as though she was trying to suck in air, or to scream; but there was no sound escaping from her parted lips, instead a thick lump of blood was leaking from her mouth. She went down when her legs gave out beneath her, but he wouldn't let her, he couldn't afford the chance of her somehow surviving her injury. Mustering up all his remaining strength, he pushed her falling body toward a spot where the fire still burnt._ _ _

___In the last moment, she cried out, but fire had already caught her, lighting her dark mass of hair and her robes with flame. She burnt, screaming in agony as she tried to flee, but only success in bumping into the other cultists, letting the fire jump from one person to another. Soon enough each cultists were struggling for their lives, withering in pain._ _ _

___It wouldn't take long for the fire to consume everything within this room, if not the whole building. If he still wanted to survive, he needed to get to the door and escape, now._ _ _

___Taking a last look at the doomed room, he saw the cultists burning like living flame. Killed by fire, the proper punishment for witches and cultists and occultists._ _ _

___As he stumbled toward the only exist of this cursed room, a thought flashed through his mind: Did the little boy, his little inmate manage to escape from that burning inferno when he was battling the Dark Woman and her minors?_ _ _

___He would have looked back and searched for the younger boy if his surrounding hadn’t become so threateningly overheated, with deadly tongues of flame licking the walls and the ceiling. He would have done something, but reality was that he was too exhausted to do anything more, he had also lost too much blood, making even the progress of forming coherent thoughts difficult._ _ _

___Afterward, he could barely recall how he had managed to stumble his way down the stairs and then escape before the suffocating smoke and the heat of fire killed him, but he did recall breaking a window in the last minute by lifting a wooden chair and throwing it against said window. Then finally, finally he was outside of this cursed house._ _ _

___Now he knew only one thing and it was to walk forward, away, away from where he had just left behind.  Before him, the empty sidewalk seemed to be endless, he felt chilled as hot blood continued to seep from his various wounds, leaving crimson droplets on the ground, forming a bloody trace behind him._ _ _

___No one should bleed so much and still be able to keep his body functional for long. Although his panic-stricken mind was still screaming for him to run, his legs still tired to carry him further, soon they could no longer support his weight; so before he could even walk to the end of the sidewalk, he collapsed like a broken doll._ _ _

___Yet he still tried to crawl forward, only to find he could no longer move, not even a muscle._ _ _

___Was it ‘game over’ for him? He wondered feebly. He was still in so much pain but by now even this pain seemed to be getting duller, as his body was slowly disconnecting itself with his consciousness. Eventually, in haze of his darkening vision, he thought he could hear the noise of siren, from a distance._ _ _

___Today of all days, he had set things on fire, he had made someone bleed, but now he was bleeding out on a nameless street._ _ _

___Even to the last minute, he still wanted to keep his eyes open, instead he only passed out._ _ _

_____ _

__to be continued._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I admit I suck at writing action scene (if you can call it that *sighs*), but it is a chapter that I just *need* to write in order to continue writing the other parts of the story which I prefer more to write.


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